By Chase Twichell
The clouds' disintegrating script
spells out the word squander.
Tree shadows lie down in the field.
Clipped to a grass blade’s underside,
a crisp green grasshopper
weighs down the tip,
swaying between birth and death.
I'll think of him as we clink
glasses with the guests,
eating olives as the sun goes down.
Cheryl stayed after the Oscars so we could see The Shape of Water together, which we did, and it is a glorious film, beautifully imagined and allegorical without being heavy-handed about magic and monsters (I had read several debates about what it says about differently-abled people, and felt that it was more concerned with pointing out that we can't choose our abilities and can't always control our positions in life but we can choose who we love, how we treat people, and what we dream is possible). She had not seen Get Out, so we watched that too; it's a movie that only gets better on repeated viewings, which is a test of greatness that it passes with flying colors.
We had Elevation Burgers for lunch and took a walk to see bunnies (two spotted) before Cheryl had to go home. Paul and I watched two final season Bones episodes (awww Max). From the Baltimore Museum of Art on Sunday, here are the exhibits from Entangled Orbits by Tomás Saraceno, including "Flying Garden/Air Port City" using transparent film, iridescent foil, webbing, and rope to make a sphere that covers an entire gallery; "Zonal Harmonic" using rope, thread, and fishing line to create astronomical images; "Hybrid solitary semi social" preserving three different types of spider web structures; and the titular exhibit covering the East Lobby with iridescent clouds.